


If You'd Have Me

by foxygrampaglasses



Series: If You'd Have Me [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Asexual Character, Fingering, Gentle Sex, Happy Sex, I needed some mush, M/M, Praise Kink, Slow Sex, Trans Character, Vaginal Sex, asexual author, but happy crying, crying sex, fluffy sex, giggly sex, gray asexual!inquisitor, just like so much mush guys, my kink is trust and good communication, oh yeah and, trans author, trans!inquisitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:54:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12347649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxygrampaglasses/pseuds/foxygrampaglasses
Summary: Owaine has never gotten close enough to let himself want this. He is scared, but Cullen is kind.





	If You'd Have Me

**Author's Note:**

> /wholesome/ sexual fantasies? In MY fanfiction?? It's more likely than you'd think.
> 
> No lie I cried writing this wops. Also, another not gonna lie, this is my fantasy for my first time. Sex is scary, but soft boys are warm. If you're curious, I always associate a particular song with my fics. This fic's song is "Tell Her You Love Her" by Echosmith. Alternatively, "Up to You" by Echosmith also works.
> 
> Check out my art and other nonsense on my tumblr ==> sirotterpup dot tumblr dot com

"Can I leave my shirt on?"

 

The question startled Cullen out of his novel-induced trance. He blinked, shifted in his arm chair and turned his attention to watch his lover stand at the windows overlooking the mountainside beneath Skyhold.

 

"What was that?" He asked. Owaine glanced at him, then back to the watery night sky.

 

"When we have sex-" Cullen's face instantly darkened several shades. "Can I leave my shirt on...?"

 

Cullen marked his spot in the book and set it aside.

 

"I don't know why you couldn't?"

 

Owaine spun on his bare heels, arms folded close to his body and chest full of breath. He wanted to speak. He wanted to say everything in his head, but, he sighed.

 

"What's on your mind, love?" Cullen asked, gesturing for Owaine to come closer. The Inquisitor swayed, caught between taking a seat on his boyfriend's lap or simply leaving the room altogether. He settled for taking a step back, leaning against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

 

"I want...to have sex." He said. "But I'm...afraid."

 

Cullen stayed in his seat. Anxious and awkward described him well, but Cullen knew he needed to let Owaine come to him. He rubbed his sweating palms on his trousers.

 

"We've talked about this before."

 

Owaine's fingers twitched, his teeth sinking into his thick bottom lip. "What good is a boyfriend that won't have sex with you...?"

 

Cullen swallowed his exasperation, it would benefit no one. "Nothing." He watched the boy, enchanted by the glow of the candlelight transforming his golden hair into fire. "I want you, if you would have me. One night together doesn't make you my personal toy. You always have the right to decline later."

 

Owaine looked up from the floor, seemingly comforted by this. "...You promise?"

 

Cullen smiled, nodding. "I promise."

 

"Pinky promise?"

 

Cullen chuckled, holding out his pinky. "You have to come over here first."

 

Owaine hesitated, but pushed away from the window. He crossed the threshold on wobbly legs and unsure breath. He offered his pinky to Cullen, which Cullen took gracefully.

 

"Pinky promise." He agreed.

 

The fire crackled, but it was muffled in their ears.

 

"So...right now?" Owaine broke the connection of their pinkies, hand hovering by the collar of his shirt. Cullen's Adam's apple bobbed.

 

"If you're ready."

 

Owaine needed no more confirmation. He set to work, removing his scarf and combing a hand through his hair.

 

"W-wait-"

 

Owaine froze. "I'm sorry, am I not supposed to-?" His hands trembled.

 

"No, no, you're fine, I just-could I...do that for you?" Cullen asked, his smile growing more confident as he watched Owaine's mouth fall open. Owaine simply nodded, taking the three steps needed to be between Cullen's knees.

 

Cullen took the scarf from Owaine's hands, letting it fall through his grasp to the floor without breaking eye contact. Owaine could barely breath. Cullen sat his large hands around the back of Owaine's slender neck, the curve of Owaine's jaw resting in the crook of Cullen's thumb, his cheeks bleeding heat into Cullen's cold fingertips.

 

"My shirt-" Owaine's voice was breathy though they'd hardly touched. Cullen nodded.

 

"You want to keep it on."

 

"B-But my binder, can come off." Owaine ran a hand under his loose tunic, fingers searching for the laces running down his back. Cullen followed his hands.

 

"Could I?" He asked. Owaine stuttered, pulling his hands away.

 

"Oh right, yes, sorry-" Owaine clamped his mouth shut around the waterfall of anxious words pouring off his tongue. Cullen's hands, around his back, stilled.

 

"Would you rather do it yourself?" He asked. Owaine shook his head, blazing hair swishing.

 

"No, I'd-" he smiled, soft and sweet. "I'd like you to do it." He spoke with his hands near his stomach, fidgeting with his fingernails. Cullen's heart swelled.

 

Unlacing the binder took only a few moments, but heavy breath and anxious hearts made it feel like forever. When the binder finally hit the floor, they breathed echoing sighs of relief.

 

Owaine felt naked even with his tunic still hanging around his shoulders. His nipples made just enough of an impression on the fabric to be visible through the shirt, the whispering weight of the fabric making them rise.

 

"Can I... take off something of yours?" Owaine asked. Cullen stared for a moment, processing the request.

 

"Of course." He said, smile lopsided. He took Owaine's hands in his own and guided them to the hem of his shirt. Owaine took the fabric in his fingers and, after awkwardly catching Cullen's chin on the collar, tossed the shirt away.

 

"S-Sorry." He apologized. Owaine’s sheepish smile put just enough heat in Cullen's throat to bring out a chuckle, clear as a baritone bell.

 

"You're doing fine." The lines of his smile were deep, the shadows of the fire catching on the wrinkles in his weathered face. "It's refreshing to be the more confident one, for once."

 

Owaine laughed as Cullen's hands lifted his long tunic, fingers grazing across the sensitive skin of his abdomen and sinking into the hem of his trousers.

 

"Can I kiss you? While I take these off?"

 

Owaine nodded, his voice lost to anxiety. He leaned over Cullen's sitting body, hands on his bare chest, and met him lip-to-lip. Cullen immediately leaned into the kiss, slow but with pressure, as he tugged at the laces holding Owaine's trousers up. Owaine laughed into the kiss as Cullen's fingers did their work, his nails inadvertently trailing across his skin. Cullen couldn't believe the way his boyfriend’s laughter tugged at his heart.

 

Soon the trousers were forgotten, his panties along with them, as the two surrendered themselves to the kiss. Owaine tripped out of his clothes, letting himself fall onto Cullen's lap. Hands began to wander. Cullen's settled on the plush curve of Owaine's ass, and Owaine pressed his palms to Cullen's abs.

 

They broke the kiss gasping, resting forehead-to-forehead.

 

"You're so beautiful." Owaine sighed. He was slick, slowly soaking into the fabric straining to hold Cullen's growing erection.

 

"Not as beautiful as you." He sighed, kneading the elf's ass cheeks. Owaine gasped.

 

They took a moment to collect themselves, just listening to each other breathing and running hands over skin. Owaine's hands sunk to Cullen's trousers, playing with the laces.

 

"Can I?" He whispered. Cullen groaned.

 

"Maker's breath, please."

 

Owaine's heart fluttered, his mind swimming among a fireworks show of emotions. He swayed for a moment before doing as he had planned and opened the seam of Cullen's trousers and undergarments. Cullen almost sounded pained as he pulled his erection from its fabric confines. Owaine held his breath.

 

"Don't stare so much." Cullen laughed, eyes downcast with embarrassment. Owaine quickly looked away.

 

"S-Sorry I've never- you know- done this, or-" Owaine laughed nervously. "Or seen a penis...before."

 

Cullen let that sink in, shocked at first by the admission and then that he was surprised in the first place. Owaine had never been one to trust people, to get this close. It had taken more than a few friendly games of chess to coax the reclusive Inquisitor into any kind of relationship. Having confirmation that he was the first to earn Owaine’s consent filled him, and his penis, with pride more powerful than he’d ever known before.

 

"Could I... touch it?" Owaine asked, glancing at the pulsing erection between his legs. Cullen was mesmerized.

 

"Yeah-ye-yes. Absolutely. Yes." Cullen stammered through his consent. Owaine laughed a bit, his hand hovering.

 

When the pads of his fingers met hot, pulsing flesh, Cullen moaned, his hands gripping Owaine and in turn drawing a squeaky gasp from him as well.

 

"Wait-" Cullen gasped, leaning over the chair precariously, nearly bucking Owaine off his lap, to grab a jar from their bedside table. "Hold out your hand."

 

Owaine presented his fingers, letting Cullen coat them in lubricant. Owaine returned his hands to his erection, startled when the icy lubricant made Cullen flinch.

 

"Sorry, darling." Owaine whispered. Cullen relaxed as the lubricant began to warm in Owaine's hands. He shook his head, curls bouncing.

 

"I was so excited I forgot how cold it would be." Cullen laughed, pressing a kiss to Owaine's neck.

 

Owaine stroked him slowly, pushing and pulling the lubricant around Cullen's shaft. He wasn't particularly good in any way, his strokes stilted and uneven, but Cullen didn't need technique when he already had the sexiest thing he had ever encountered; Owaine's trust.

 

"Hold it a little tighter." Cullen said, placing his hand around Owaine's and helping him adjust his grip. Owaine nodded, his brows furrowed in concentration, the tiniest tip of pink peeking out from between his lips. Cullen pressed a kiss to his lips, desperate to quell the near unbearable ache of affection stirring in his chest.

 

"Bless you." He said. Owaine giggled.

 

Cullen pressed a hand in Owaine's bunched up tunic. "Can I touch you?"

 

"Yeah." Owaine exhaled.

 

"Where?"

 

"...anywhere."

 

"Anywhere?"

 

"N-no, everywhere."

 

Cullen nuzzled his face against Owaine's and pushed his hands up under his tunic. His fingers sunk into his breasts, hard nipples tickling his palms. Owaine groaned behind closed lips, his vocal chords buzzing against Cullen’s forehead. He leaned his soft chest into Cullen's burning hands and grit his teeth.

 

“Love?” Cullen asked, rolling a thumb over Owaine’s left nipple. The elf gasped.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Could you-” Cullen faltered, unsure how to word his request. “I’d like hear you.”

 

“H-Hear me...?”

 

“I can feel you moaning, but....”

 

Owaine sucked in a slow breath, exhaled. “I’ll try...”

 

Cullen kissed his neck, earning a panicked giggle as he hit a tickle spot. “It’s okay if you can’t.”

 

Cullen let himself drift into the ebb and flow of Owaine’s hand, the elf gaining confidence with each stroke. His breasts were warm and pliant under Cullen’s hands, rolling like well-made bread dough. Somewhere in the fray, Owaine lost his patience, forgot his fear, and pulled one of Cullen’s hands between his legs.

 

Cullen gasped, low and hearty, when his fingers slid past the scratchy thatch and sank into Owaine’s gooey heat. And Owaine fought the desperate need to silence himself, forcing his teeth to part and let the moan trickle out from his lips. Precum oozed from Cullen’s slit, his hips bucked.

 

“That was so good.” He said, feeling a rush of slick greet his fingers. Foggy minded, he fought to be curious. “Owaine?”

 

The elf sighed, his head gently craning back. “...Yes?”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“W-What?”

 

Cullen shifted, bringing his eyes to meet Owaine’s and, oh maker, they were so glossy, pupils blown so wide he couldn’t even see the iris. He froze, lips parted. “Thank you.”

 

Owaine laughed, eyes darting around. “Y-Your welcome? You haven’t even come...” He said, clearly confused. Cullen kissed his nose.

 

“You’re so brave.”

 

Owaine gasped.

 

“And so beautiful.”

 

Owaine bit his lip.

 

“You’re so good to me.”

 

Owaine moaned, his shoulders shaking.

 

“Can you...can we...” Owaine coughed. “Can you put it inside?”

 

Cullen slipped his fingers along Owaine’s clit, stroking it like the erection it was. Owaine sighed a lilted, sliding moan. “Let’s just start with my fingers, okay?”

 

Owaine nodded, grinding down on the fingertips sitting at his hole. Cullen needed no further encouragement and let the pressure of Owaine’s hips guide his fingers inside.

 

“O-Oh, Cullen-” He tensed, still and unmoving. Cullen followed his lead, stilling his hand.

 

“You okay, babe?” He asked, waiting patiently for Owaine to return to him. “Did you come?”

 

Owaine shook his head, exhaling heavily. “No, but almost. I-I don’t want to come yet.” His gasps fell into breathy laughs.

 

Cullen brushed a kiss over his cheeks. “Just a little bit more, I don’t want to hurt you.”

 

Owaine returned the kisses, hands slipping under his balls and drawing out a rumbling moan from Fereldan’s Lion. Cullen chuckled. “You’re getting good at this.”

 

Owaine whined. “I can’t handle you complimenting me like that.”

 

Cullen hummed. “I’ve noticed.”

 

“You’re doing it on purpose?” Owaine tensed as Cullen fit a second finger inside him, melting into the touch.

 

“It makes you feel good though, doesn’t it?”

 

“M-Maybe...”

 

“You’re gentle, and winderful, and you deserve praise.” Cullen delighted in the way Owaine clenched around him and whined.

 

“Stop it! You’re going to make me come before we even get to the best part.” He grumbled, slumping against Cullen’s chest. Laughter rattled Cullen’s ribs and vibrated through Owaine’s whole head.

 

“Of course, love.”

 

A distinct popping noise punctuated Cullen’s fingers leaving Owaine’s body, trailing his clit on its way. Owaine shivered.

 

“How are you not-” Owaine heaved a breath. “-losing it?”

 

Cullen contemplated the question, unsure of the true answer. “Long nights alone?” He spoke as he poured another helping of lubricant over himself.

 

Owaine giggled, letting Cullen slip his hands under his bottom and following the movement to position himself over Cullen’s erection. He held Owaine there, tip just barely touching the folds protecting his insides. Cullen touched his forehead to Owaine’s, brushed his hair behind a long ear.

 

“Are you ready?”

 

Owaine closed his eyes. Just for a moment, he let himself feel the impossibility of this moment. He held Cullen’s hands and kissed the knuckles, pressed them to his forehead.

 

“Yes, I’m ready.” He said, lifting his eyes.

 

They searched each other’s souls as Owaine sank down on Cullen, their faces twisting with pleasure. Owaine threw his arms around Cullen’s neck, rolling his hips.

 

“Maker-” Cullen groaned, letting his fingers enjoy Owaine’s full backside. Owaine kissed his lover.

 

“Please don’t bring him into this.”

 

Cullen moved his hips with Owaine’s, savoring the squeeze of his tight hymen. His fingers roamed as they found their rhythm. Owaine’s breathy moans quickly turned to honey-sweet giggles.

 

“C-Cullen-” He wheezed. “That t-tickles-” Owaine’s body shook with laughter, his walls squeezing Cullen tight.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Cullen apologized. “You just feel so good.”

 

Owaine shuddered, placing his lips to Cullen’s ear as he whined. “Do I really...?” his thrusts were slow and deep, building pleasure the way single droplets build waterfalls.

 

“I’ve never felt anything more amazing.” Praise flowed from Cullen’s lips, desperate to keep the love in his heart from bursting him wide open.  He gasped as Owaine’s hymen caught the lip of his glans, and then that heat was plunging back around him. “I’ve never felt more blessed.”

 

Owaine laughed, if only because he didn’t know what else to do with the bubbling emotions in his stomach, chest, throat. As they watched each other, met each other with each roll of their hips, the drip drops began leaking. Tears slipped from their eyes, mingled with the sweat and slick.

 

“I love you, I love you so much.” Owaine sniffed, lips shaking, hips quaking. “Oh, Cullen, I’m going to-” He swallowed the moan, desperate to keep this moment alive.

 

A hand found Owaine’s jaw, guiding his eyes to Cullen.

 

“Come with me.”

 

Cullen slid his hands into Owaine’s sunset hair and pulled him in, crushing their mouths together. Their hips stayed steady, tears light and sweet, and when they came they came with moanes mixed between their joined lips, Owaine’s vocal chords screaming and Cullen’s vibrating with the force of an earthquake.

 

The waterfall mounted, slick and cum intertwining in Owaine’s unholiest of places.

 

Owaine held Cullen for gods know how long, just trying to find his breath. And Cullen held him, too, keeping him grounded when the high of their love making felt like too much. They were breathing, then laughing, then crying, and at some point, all three.

 

As their hearts began to settle, their rattling bones quieting themselves, Cullen placed a kiss upon Owaine’s brow.

 

Perhaps this would be the only night Cullen would have this, but maker be damned if he wasn’t satisfied. For one night, two broken people lined up their edges, and for a time, could be whole.


End file.
